


You better watch out

by frostysunflowers



Series: simply having a wonderful christmas time [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Confused Peter Parker, Gen, Home Invasion, Mistaken Identity, Protective Peter Parker, Santa Claus is coming to toooown, have yourself a hailing and frosty christmas, this family is a disaster but we love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: Peter finds Morgan’s wide gaze and they stare at each other for a moment, holding their breath, waiting to see if it’s just a trick of the night, a strange leftover fragment of one of their dreams.Another thump comes, followed by a string of muffled cursing over what Peter recognises as Rhodey snoring. He waits for the man to stir, but the snoring carries on unbroken, even as more curses are uttered."Is it Santa?" Morgan whispers excitedly, freeing herself from the bedcovers, elbowing Peter in the ribs as she moves. "Is he here?"orIt's Christmas night, and Peter is about to face an unlikely foe.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: simply having a wonderful christmas time [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041610
Comments: 15
Kudos: 168





	You better watch out

**Author's Note:**

> Me again! Hope everyone has been having a lovely holiday season, please enjoy another dose of ridiculous chaos <3

"Why can’t we stay up?"

Peter smiles sleepily into his pillow. "You know why, Mo. If you don’t go to sleep, Santa won’t bring you any presents."

"Well, I think that’s very spicious."

The smile turns into a grin. "Very spicious, you’re right."

"I just wanna make sure he leaves the right presents."

Peter rolls over and opens one eye, peering up at where Morgan is hanging over the edge of her bed, one arm swinging lazily back and forth, framed by the soft pink glow of the fairy lights looped along the wall behind her. "You mean you just wanna sneak a peek."

"Do not!" she denies through a giggle. 

Peter yawns. "The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning and you can open presents."

Morgan pouts at him. She’d been too distracted to think like this last year, tired and worried like the rest of them, determined to wait by Tony’s bedside instead of planning a stake out for Santa. Now, with everybody under the same roof, snug and secure, and the promise of a proper Christmas only a few hours away, it’s easy for her to fall into the excited habits of children all over the world. 

Peter, on the other hand, just wants to sleep. Though May and Happy have the exceedingly comfy bed in the guest room, the nest of blankets and weightless feel of the air mattress beneath him is not something to be sneered at. Peter had offered to take the couch in place of Rhodey more than once since they arrived, but the man had simply waved him off with explanations about needing firm back support and Tony’s couch being better than his own bed back home, so that left Peter bunking with Morgan. 

It’s definitely what he always imagined living with a little brother or sister would be like. He’d even promised to go to bed early just so she would, giving the adults a bit of time to themselves, though from the sleepy yawns and tired laughs that had been filling the room as he herded Morgan upstairs, Peter doesn’t think they’ll be staying up too late themselves. It’s been a busy day after all, what with Nebula arriving during breakfast and Happy nearly falling down the porch steps as he carried in more firewood, not to mention the fact that Morgan will likely be jumping on everyone come sunrise. 

"Peteyyyy," Morgan moans, swinging her arm at him. 

"Just go to sleep, Mo."

"I caaaaan’t. I’m not tired."

Peter groans out a laugh. "But I aaaam."

"Please can you tell me a story?"

It’s asked with such adorable sweetness that Peter doesn’t even bother to argue, though he does make a show of climbing up onto Morgan’s bed, huffing and puffing for dramatic effect while she giggles and pulls on his t-shirt to help him up. 

"What story do you want?" he asks as he settles in against the pillow, Morgan’s stuffed crocodile and Iron Man plushie framing his head. "A Christmas one?"

"The one where you and Mister Doctor Strange’s cloak fought that rhino man!"

Peter winces, ribs twinging in memory of the breaks and bruises he’d sustained in that particular fight. "Uh, I don’t think that one is good bedtime material."

"Aw, pleeease?"

Yawning widely, Peter playfully pokes her on the nose. "You’re so weird."

It’s probably just as well that she wants something exciting and action-packed. He hasn’t got the soothing voice Tony has; that soft, gentle tone that’s made for bedtime stories, and even if he did, he’s more likely to fall asleep telling it than Morgan is simply listening. 

"Pleeeease, Petey?"

"Once upon a time," Peter begins through another yawn, adjusting his arms as Morgan burrows closer into his side, "Spider-Man was hanging out with Cloakie, the most awesome of mystical bros…"

* * *

Peter’s eyes fly open and a spike of alertness shoots through him. 

He isn’t quite sure why at first. For a few seconds, everything seems as it should be. He’s still in Morgan’s room, still tucked up in her bed with the cuddly toys. 

Then Morgan grabs his arm at the same time a loud thump comes from somewhere downstairs. 

Peter finds Morgan’s wide gaze and they stare at each other for a moment, holding their breath, waiting to see if it’s just a trick of the night, a strange leftover fragment of one of their dreams. 

Another thump comes, followed by a string of muffled cursing over what Peter recognises as Rhodey snoring. He waits for the man to stir, but the snoring carries on unbroken, even as more curses are uttered. 

"Is it Santa?" Morgan whispers excitedly, freeing herself from the bedcovers, elbowing Peter in the ribs as she moves. "Is he here?"

"Uh, I don’t know," Peter whispers back, slipping off the bed and moving over to the bedroom door. It’s open a fraction, allowing the gentle glow of the light at the far end of the hallway to shine in. "Wait there, okay?"

Amazingly, Morgan listens, and Peter steps out of the door silently, keeping his back to the wall as he slowly heads towards the stairs, a steady thrum of concern pulsing at the base of his throat. Why hasn’t FRIDAY alerted them to the intruder? How did they even manage to get close to the cabin without tripping any of the security systems?

Crouching low, Peter peers down the stairs and into the living room. From here he can see the remaining embers of the fire glowing dimly in the hearth, the flickering glow of the lights wrapped around the Christmas tree and strung along the walls, and a figure clad in red digging through a large bag right beside it. 

Over the back of the couch, he can see Rhodey’s prone figure, snoring loudly, one arm slung haphazardly over the arm, right next to where his braces are leaning. In the armchair beside the tree, slumped at at far too awkward of an angle to be sleeping comfortably, is Tony. 

Peter’s heartrate kicks up another notch. He knows he heard Tony pause outside Morgan’s door as he was telling the third story of the night, quietly checking on them before heading to bed. Peter _knows_ this, so why is Tony down here now, flopped in that chair like a puppet with its strings cut? And where the hell is Nebula?

The figure kneels down beside the tree and begins to shuffle through the gifts, then pauses to pick up one of the mince pies sitting on a china plate upon the coffee table, accidentally knocking over the glass of milk standing beside it. Milk splashes all over the place, the glass rolls onto the floor with a dull thud and the figure curses again. 

Rhodey snorts in his sleep but still doesn’t wake. Tony’s foot twitches but otherwise, he doesn’t even move. 

Dread settle in Peter's stomach like a lead weight. Have they been drugged? Did this guy do something to them? Is that why they’re not waking up while the house is being ransacked?

Hearing the telltale brush of socks on the floor, he turns to look over his shoulder at where Morgan is peeking out of her bedroom door. Something must show on his face because the enchanted excitement in her eyes rapidly fades. He points at her, then points down the hallway to where Pepper and Tony’s room is, flicking his finger back and forth a few times until Morgan nods and scurries along, impressively silent as she eases the door open and disappears inside. 

Peter cautiously crawls forward, silently making his way down the stairs in an awkward crouch. Halfway down, he leaps up towards the ceiling and sneaks towards the edge of the room, lurking in the darker corners as he draws closer, stopping when he’s directly above the figure. He can’t catch a glimpse of the guy’s face from this angle, just a broad mass of shoulders. If he had his webshooters, this would be all over by now, but as they’re back in Queens with his suit, part of May’s request for him to be completely off duty for the holidays, there’s no option but to do this the hands on way. 

Twisting so he’s fully facing downwards, feet and fingers still sticking to the ceiling, Peter takes a slow breath, then drops. 

A startled and oddly familiar shout of, "What the _hell?!"_ has both Tony and Rhodey lurching awake with garbled cries of their own, while Peter and the now flailing figure go flying backwards into the tree. Everything becomes a jumble of tinsel and twinkling lights and pine needles jabbing Peter in far too many places, but he quickly manages to right himself and push back, pinning the guy to the floor, one knee pressed into his spine and an arm pinned up high. The front door crashes open and Nebula bursts in, her blade extended high above her head, though she quickly freezes when she spots Peter. 

The guy groans loudly and Peter tightens his grip ever so slightly. "Nice try, dude, but your lame ass Santa costume isn’t fooling - "

Tony and Rhodey’s loud laughter cuts him off. 

"Jeez, kid," Tony wheezes, "what is with you trying to kill Santa this year? Do you want the job that badly?"

Peter twists to frown at him, only for a muffled groan of pain to draw his attention back to the man he’s currently holding against the floor. Leaning down, he tilts to the side, peering into a red, grumpy face smushed into the floorboards. 

_"Happy?"_

"No, he’s Santa," Rhodey cackles, which sets Tony off again. "I think he’s insulting your fancy outfit, Hap."

''I don't understand,'' Nebula says, lowering her blade. ''I thought Santa was allowed to invade people's houses without fear of being attacked for doing so.''

''Not if you're Happy,'' Tony singsongs gleefully. 

"Oh my god, Happy," Peter rambles, jumping up and all but manhandling Happy to his feet. "I’m so sorry, I just - I saw someone sneaking about in the dark and Mister Stark looking like he was - " he pauses, assessing Happy’s appearance properly. "What are you wearing?"

Happy glares and attempts to straighten the wrinkles out of his very red, silky pajama shirt; a shirt that matches perfectly with his pajama trousers. "They were a gift from May, alright?"

"Oo la la," Tony teases. 

''I saw him earlier from the garage, carrying gifts in from the car,'' Nebula adds. ''He was wearing that ridiculous outfit then too.''

Happy puffs up. _''Hey - ''_

''Why were you in the garage?'' Peter interrupts. 

''I was with Dum-E watching a movie,'' Nebula says with a shrug, fiddling with the tip of her blade.

 _''Wall-E_ again?'' Tony asks knowingly. 

''He likes the dancing.''

"But then…" Peter looks at Tony. "Why are you down here? I heard you go to bed."

"He was supposed to help me put the presents out," Happy grumbles. "But these two ended up having one too many night caps and I found him sleeping down here."

"Hey, it’s the holidays," Tony holds his hands up. "I’m allowed to indulge."

"You had two glasses of mulled wine and dozed off in your chair like an old man," Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. "I voluntarily went to sleep like a respectable adult who can hold their drink."

Tony tugs a bauble off the tree and throws it at Rhodey, ducking when a pillow is immediately thrown back. As they descend into their usual bickering along with Nebula, Happy prods Peter on the shoulder. 

"I thought your Peter tingle was supposed to help you tell the difference between enemies and, you know, innocent guys trying to keep the magic of Christmas alive."

"Do _not_ call it that. And you know it goes weird when I’m around people I know. It’s like a dampening effect."

"You call that a super power?"

"Hey," Peter frowns. "At least I’m not dressed like Santa."

"I told you, these were a gift - "

"Hey!" Rhodey’s laughing shout interrupts them. "Give that back!"

Tony, wielding one of Rhodey’s braces like a sword, holds it out of reach, leaning back with a triumphant grin in his chair, only to freeze when the main light for the room flicks on. Peter turns and laughs sheepishly as he spots Pepper, May and Morgan standing on the stairs in their own festive sleepwear. 

Morgan’s eyes immediately land on the giant bag of presents lying on the floor. "Santa came!"

"Oh, so it was Santa making all that noise earlier," Pepper says pointedly, giving them all a look as she follows Morgan down. "That’s a relief."

"Yeah," Peter glances at Happy who gives a huff that’s clearly mostly for show. "Big relief."

May nods at where the tree is collapsed against the wall, ornaments in disarray, lights blinking erratically. "Did Santa knock over the tree too?" 

"Too much warm milk," Tony says, handing Rhodey back the leg brace and standing up with a muffled groan. "Right! Who wants presents?"

Peter snorts while Pepper gives an exasperated laugh. "Tony, it’s nearly two in the morning!"

"So? It’s Christmas!"

"I’m in," Rhodey says, swivelling round on the couch and wrapping a companionable arm around Nebula's shoulders as she takes a seat next to him. "Hope Santa got us something good, right, Nebs?''

Nebula locks eyes with Tony and they exchange a smirk that is far too devious, while Pepper shares an exasperated yet fond sigh with May. "Fine. Just one though, and then we’re all going back to bed."

As Morgan practically dives headfirst into the half empty sack of gifts, Peter reaches over to straighten the tree before bending down to rearrange the gifts already sitting beneath it. His fingers knock across a tag attached to one wrapped in paper decorated with dancing snowmen, and he spots _Underoos_ written in Tony’s familiar scrawl. 

He picks it up and waggles it in Tony’s direction. 

"It’s a survival blanket," Tony says, smirking at Happy who immediately scowls and heads into the kitchen, muttering something about hot chocolate. 

"I thought you said I was getting coal."

"I got you that," May smiles. "A huge lump of it."

"That’s it, I’m going to bed."

Peter grabs his gift and stands with a dramatic huff, only to collapse back onto one of the other armchairs in laughter when Morgan abandons her search to seize him by the legs. May sits beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and he immediately leans into the contact, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair as it tickles his face, watching the usual chaos unfold with nothing but a warm feeling in his chest as he does so. 

"Tony," Rhodey’s voice warns over the sound of Morgan ripping bright paper off a small box, "I swear to god if you bought me that damn juicer - "

"Happy Christmas, honeybear!" Tony cheers and Peter’s face aches furiously with the strength of his grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
